First plate home, first plate home

the numbers

bpm

89

key

F minor

energy

0.72

dance

0.92

valence

0.44

vocal at

3.8s

length

3:09

language

En

lyrics

Keys hit the bowl by the door, it rang like a bell

Cardboard in the hallway, one box still smelled like shell

I set a dented pan down on the red Formica top

Flat in Detroit, third floor, and I could not make it stop

One burner hissed awake, blue flame under the grate

I cracked two eggs in the bowl, watched my hands steady straight

Salt on the black countertop, spoon beside the plate

First night on my own, I heard the old lock shake

First plate home, first plate home

First plate home, first plate home

Bread in the pan, let it rise

First plate home, first plate home

Grease popped on my forearm, clock said eight seventeen

A crooked fork on a towel, and a jar of jelly clean

I burned the toast a little, cut the crust away

Held that hot first bite up, like I had something to say

First plate home, first plate home

First plate home, first plate home

Bread in the pan, let it rise

First plate home, first plate home

Sink full of dishwater, cabinet door held shut

A rent receipt on the table, and my back still felt stuck

I looked at that empty chair, then the meal on a white plate

Somebody cooked for this man now, and it was getting late

First plate home, first plate home

First plate home, first plate home

Bread in the pan, let it rise

First plate home, first plate home